Goodnight Little Bird
by RiRi-Rhiannon
Summary: Sandor is escorting Sansa back home to Winterfell. Sandor/Sansa


It had been long since Sansa had felt the cold touch of frost on her pale skin, her cheeks like roses and eyes of the Dire wolf emanating through the white land. It was as if this was her first time seeing the snow in Winterfell. Close behind followed her humble hound, Sandor, keeping a close watch on the bright ginger girl stumbling in front. He didn't have to escort her back to Winterfell, but it was a strange feeling, more of a force, that wherever she went, he'd be sure to follow. After all, he was the one who offered to take her home, away from all the chaos and destruction, the Lannisters, Joffrey.

The more Sandor entered the forest, the more he started to like it. The serenity of the wild calmed him, the only sound to be heard was that of their boots flattening the snow, leaving footprints only to be quickly covered up again by the falling snow. He watched as Sansa pulled her cloak up further around her shoulders, the cloak that was once that of a bears, skinned, and fastened with a strap and lace. Sansa made the brutal thing seem somewhat elegant, graceful, lady-like.

As she glided across the snow it made Sandor feel like a monster behind her, falling deep into the snow with his weight, stumbling around clumsily and almost falling due to losing his balance. Sansa was leading the way from this point on. She knew her way around these parts well and needed no help getting to where she wanted to be. Home. Besides, Sandor would have just slowed her down if she was to follow behind him. She turned to look back at him and as she did her soft curls bounced. He watched her as if he was mesmerized, which he could've been. He had never seen anything as beautiful in his life. Her thick-Auburn hair, rouged lips and blue eyes stood out amongst the white, colourless woodland.

After she checked behind her to make sure that Sandor was still keeping up with her pace she turned again and continued walking, but Sandor was more than a little tired.

"I think we should stop for a while, little bird," he said with a cold pant that sent a puff of smoke into the air, "Aren't you tired?"

Sansa looked back at him curiously, "But Winterfell isn't far from here, I swear, it's only a little further through the woods," she said almost defensively.

"You said that last time," Sandor huffed. Sansa was unsure what to say next. She had really misjudged the length of time it would've taken to get to Winterfell, and it was growing very late, but she didn't want to sleep another night in the cold. She wanted to be in a warm bed, with the fire blazing, keeping the room bright and warm throughout the night. Although he was right, she knew that she was tired, and so gave in to temptation.

"Al-right then," She walked to Sandor who had begun to unroll a blanket to lie on, and watched him as he found a dry spot to put in down. Then when he was finished fixing it she took a seat and waited patiently as Sandor gathered sticks and twigs for firewood. He then made them into a little bundle. When he had finished arranging them he looked to Sansa to light the fire as she always had these past few weeks due to Sandor's hate of the orange flames.

It took her a while to get it started but she eventually got the wood to burn. Sandor refused to look at the fire, but instead watched it in her eyes. The flames danced in the blue, and Sandor couldn't take his eyes off her, not even when she caught him staring. She stared back at him for a moment and then turned to continue watching the fire, but and uneasiness crept over her, as she could still feel his glare.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" she questioned him, watching as his mouth gaped open, trying to think of an answer. She was confused when he turned his head around to look into the vast emptiness of the woods.

"Is it such a crime to look?" he said finally as he turned to stare at her once again, with the fire still blazing bright in her eyes. Sandor almost always had her lost for words. At the beginning it was more of a fear that would make her unable to spit out a sentence, but now she didn't know what it was. She didn't want to think about him as any more than an escort back home, but now that she was used to him, she didn't know how to feel.

"No, but-" she couldn't think of anything to say, so he offered a sentence for her.

"I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. I'll look elsewhere from now on," and so he did with great hesitation. He turned, lay down and closed his eyes. Yet he still pictured Sansa in his head, with the flames consuming her eyes as she watched the fire.

Sansa felt somewhat guilty, and wanted to tell him that she wasn't uncomfortable with it, but she knew well enough that he would know straight away that she was lying. He could always tell whether or not she was telling the truth, and quite frankly it was beginning to become a problem. All she wanted was to keep to herself, but he would always ask if she was okay, like a concerned parent would, but Sansa came to understand that he cared about her. After all, she has been in his protection for quite a while now.

Moments passed, and after thinking about it for a while, Sansa stood up, walked slowly toward the mat where Sandor was lying, lowered herself down beside him, and lay back to back with him. They lay like that for a while before Sandor shuffled himself around so that her back was leaning against his chest. He then began to take the blanket from beside him and throw it over them two, so that they would both stay warm through the night.

Sansa felt as his huge arm wrapped around her and pulled her closer to him, her heart beating faster and faster as they embraced each other. He was much bigger than her, her small feet only coming to his knees. He felt as her head rested slowly in his neck, and as her hair brushed against his chin. She could feel his breath on her, but somehow she didn't mind. She felt comfortable now, and so she began to drift off to sleep.

Just before she was fully consumed by her dreams, Sandor leaned over her and kissed her lightly on the head, "Goodnight, little bird," he whispered down to her, and then began to drift off himself, dreaming about the fire dancing in the Stark girl's eyes.


End file.
